Earthquake
by Laurie Makensri
Summary: They don't have a catagory for tragedy, so I'll live with drama. Please, PLEASE, *PLEASE* read the author's note. It's the whole reason for the story. This will not be continued.


  
Kedadry of Mindelan and Nealan of Queenscove walked down the hallway, talking about their latest algebra assignment.   
  
"Kel, you have to help me with this...I don't get it at all--"  
  
Suddenly the ground shook beneath the squires' feet. "Neal--What's going on?" Kel shouted.  
  
"Earthquake...Kel, get out of here!" Neal shouted.  
  
"Not without you!" She grabbed his hand and refused to let go.  
  
"Keladry of Mindelan, if you don't get out of here, I'll never speak to you again!" He screamed at her.  
  
"For the last time....not...without...you!" she yelled as the earth shuddered more violently.  
"GO!" he yelled, and shoved her forward, straight into Cleon of Kennan. "Cleon, get her out of here!"   
  
"What about you?" Cleon asked, confused.  
  
"I'm coming, just get her out of the building!"  
  
"NO!" Kel screamed and rooted herself to the spot.  
  
Neal swept her off the ground and kissed her cheek. "Do this for me, Kel. Please." He handed her to Cleon.  
  
"Neal! No! Come on! NEAL!" Kel screamed, hitting, kicking, biting, anything to get Cleon to drop her.   
  
"Kel! Quit being a raving lunatic! GO NOW!" he yelled to Cleon. Cleon ran with her out the door of the palace, tripping and sliding as the ground rocked.  
  
"Kel! Quit it!" Cleon yelled at her as they got out the door of the palace. Something hit Kel on the head, but she didn't care. "LET GO OF ME!" she screamed at Cleon. She had to get Neal, he could be hurt, he could be bleeding, he could be dead....  
  
The movement stopped.  
  
Hours later, the survivors were still sorting through the rubble, looking for living humans. There weren't many. Amoung those that died were Raoul of Goldenlake, Seaver of Tasride, Owen of Jesslaw, Faleron of King's Reach, Roald of Conte, and Nealan of Queenscove.  
  
A week later, the palace had been repaired somewhat. Kel was helping Neal's mother go through the things in his room. Both had silent tears falling down their cheeks. Kel thought that she had done more than her share of crying this week. The way she suddenly felt wetness on her face was far too familiar, the way her throat closed up was nothing new to her. The bandages on her forhead from having a brick hit it were too tight. She shook her head and put herself back to the task of folding Neal's shirts. She knew she didn't have to help, but she felt like she owed it to the Duchess of Queescove. Her last surviving son had died, his two older brothers having died in the Immortals War.   
  
"Here's something for you, dear," the duchess said as a letter fell out of a drawer. She handed it to Kel. It was in a thick envelope, addressed to her, protected with a wax seal and a spell. She broke the seal with her knife, and a letter fell out. It read:  
  
  
Dear Kel,   
I probably shouldn't be writing this, as in if you read it you'll probably never speak to me again. What I want to say is, I love you. You're the dawn after the night, the spring after winter, the hope in a desperate situation, like you, fighting those bandits at The Battle of the Cliff. I know you'll get mad at me for being poetic, but I need to tell you this.   
Love you till death and beyond,  
Neal  
  
Kel felt tears fresh, hot tears pour down her face. She didn't even remind herself to be as stone. Neal loved her, and now he was dead.   
  
She dropped the letter as she ran out of the room, into the palace gardens. She sat down on a bench, and let her tears fall.   
  
When she couldn't cry anymore, she went back to Neal's room. The Duchess was still there, with Lord Wyldon, who was reading the letter. "Don't say anything, Mindelan," he said as she started to speak. "Here's your letter." He handed her the paper.   
  
"Sir, I--"  
  
"Don't," he told her firmly. "It may be a comfort to you. And you should stop pretending not to feel anything. We all need to cry." He smiled sadly. Kel remembered that one of his daughters had died in the quake. Without a word, he left the room.   
  
"You can go, dear," the duchess said. "I don't need anymore help."  
  
"You sure?" Kel asked.  
  
After the duchess assured her, many times, Kel went to her room. She laid down on the bed, alone, since Lalasa was mourning for her uncle, and let the tears fall.  
  
  
Author's Note: In case you didn't know, a few days ago there was a very bad earthquake in India, 7.9 on the Ricter Scale. So far, 2,000 people have died. Hundreds are missing. If you think that this has nothing to do with you, then think again. Imagine someone you care about more than life itself is dead. You would be crying the same tears, you would be feeling the same pain, as someone who had just lost someone close to them on the other side of the world. We're all connected, we're all humans, aren't we? Still not convinced? Imagine someone close to you has died again. Every person that died in that eathquake had at least one person that cared about them. Multiply that feeling you felt times two thousand. Now you've got an idea.  
  
This is dedicated to everyone that died, that is hurt, that is touched, by the earthquake.   
  
This is dedicated to us all.  
  



End file.
